Trusty Sidekick
by Em Meredith
Summary: Do you think you can be in love with two people at the same time?" "No. I don't." Missing Syd and Weiss scenes from "After Six."


TITLE: Trusty Sidekick  
  
AUTHOR: Em Meredith (emily@healthyinterest.net)   
  
SPOILERS: Includes spoilers for "After Six."   
  
DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to JJ Abrams, ABC, Touchstone, Disney--quite possibly everybody but me. However, I'd be willing to pony up a great deal of cash if I could buy Weiss.   
  
RATING: PG  
  
DISTRIBUTION: It lives at my site (http://www.healthyinterest.net/emily). Cover Me & Expect the Unexpected may have it, but anyone else please ask first.   
  
SUMMARY: "Do you think you can be in love with two people at the same time?" "No. I don't." Missing Syd and Weiss scenes from "After Six."  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Please excuse the minor liberty I took with Weiss's accessories in AS. Thanks to Macha and Lu for their beta skills. Thanks also to Philateley, pookha, Meg, and Mush for their assistance.  
  
rusty Sidekick, By Em Meredith   
  
"Ow!" Weiss yelped and backed away from Sydney. He cupped one hand over his ear protectively and threw his other arm out as if to ward her off. "Stay back!"   
  
Sydney just laughed and rolled her eyes (something she did with alarming frequency when Weiss was around.) "Come here," she ordered, scooping his earring up off the floor and then swatting his hands away so that she had a clear view of his left ear. She leaned in closer, trying to find the earring hole, which had all but disappeared in the years since he'd left college. She tried to gently ease the diamond stud into the hole, but Weiss jerked away and she dropped the post on the ground.   
  
Again.   
  
Sydney could transform herself from a mousy chambermaid to a raven-haired vixen in the space of fifteen minutes, but Weiss was proving to be much more high maintenance. He'd asked which tie he should wear and how much gel he needed in his hair, and now he'd asked for help with the earring. She'd never had to worry about this sort of thing with Dixon.   
  
Not that she wasn't having fun. Laughing with Weiss was a nice change from the strained silences that had characterized her missions with Vaughn lately. Sydney had been trying her hardest to set her personal feelings aside, but she had to admit that she'd been more than a little relieved when Dixon agreed that Weiss could be her partner on this op.  
  
So Vaughn had been relegated to comms back in LA for a change, while Weiss got a rare opportunity to play field agent. In typical Weiss fashion, he'd gone overboard, calling her "Rebecca, darling" at every opportunity, before they'd even left the Ops Center. He claimed it was helping them get into their cover, so she let him, and by the time their fifteen hour plane ride was over, she'd stopped laughing every time he did it.   
  
But now she couldn't stop giggling, because while Eric Weiss might have been willing to hunt down international terrorists, but he was a big baby when it came to ear piercing. Unfortunately for him, the two carat diamond earring hid a CIA transmitter.   
  
"Seriously, Syd, you've defused nuclear bombs. I know that you have the hands of a surgeon. So tell me why -- ow! -- you can't seem to put that earring in my ear?"   
  
"Because," she explained, squinting at his earlobe and aiming carefully, "you've followed the CIA dress code for too long and the hole's closed up. It's going to hurt and you just need to get over it."   
  
"I don't get a little sympathy for it?" She figured he was using his charming smile or maybe even pouting a little, but she kept a firm grip on his earlobe to keep him from turning his head so she could see.   
  
"No. You lost your chance when you started squirming like a three-year-old."   
  
"Hey, I'll have you know that I am at least as mature as a second-grader."   
  
"If you don't watch out, I'm going to get a safety pin and repierce it."  
  
"A safety pin? Are you insane?"   
  
"It worked for me in the fifth grade, even if my dad wasn't exactly thrilled. How'd you pierce yours?"  
  
"My ex-girlfriend used a needle."  
  
"See? After a needle, this should be nothing."  
  
"I was drunk, Syd. Do you think I'd let someone poke at me with a needle if I was sober?  
  
"Right," she agreed and then jabbed the post in his earlobe before he had time to react.   
  
"Son of a bitch!" Sydney ignored his outburst, pushing the back on the post and grabbing a tissue to wipe away the blood.  
  
"Get over it," she said, but she couldn't help smiling at him.   
  
"And it's bleeding?" Weiss turned toward the mirror, ostensibly looking for some sort of gushing wound as evidence of Sydney's cruelty. When he found none, he began fixing his hair and fiddling with the pocket square in his jacket.   
  
"Well?" he asked, turning around and grinning. "How do I look? Good enough to be your sugar daddy for tonight?   
  
Sydney smiled and straightened his tie. "Just watch out or I might make you my sugar daddy for good."   
  
For just a second, Weiss turned serious, and she was afraid he was going to turn the subject to Vaughn, but as quickly as his mood changed, he shifted back. "I know, I know," he smirked. "It's the zebra print tie. The ladies love the tie."   
  
She couldn't help but laugh. "It's really not, Weiss."   
  
"It's the earring?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Seriously? Don't women like diamonds?"  
  
"On engagement rings, not on men. Besides, this one's a little garish. I mean, it's huge."  
  
Sydney's laughter at Weiss's raised eyebrow was cut short by the crackle of Vaughn's annoyed voice in her earpiece. "If you two are done with the makeover, it's time to move."  
  
Sydney couldn't help but sigh at Vaughn's testiness, but Weiss just shrugged. "Mike, man, you're a real drag these days. No wonder Syd's moved on to more entertaining partners."   
  
She winced at the reminder of North Korea, but if Vaughn noticed, he didn't comment on it.  
  
"You're going to be late," Vaughn told them. "Move out."  
  
"Rebecca, darling, are you ready?" Weiss holstered his gun and gave Sydney a little bow.   
  
Her hand was already on the doorknob and she walked out before Weiss had a chance to open the door for her. There was only so much gentlemanly behavior she could stand.  
  
"Let's go."  
  
--------------------  
  
By the time Sydney and Weiss had finished their debrief with Dixon, it was almost 7 p.m. Sydney drove home in a daze, calling for a pizza on her cell phone so she'd have motivation to stay awake until she reached her house. She walked through the door and threw her luggage on the floor of her coat closet. She kicked off her shoes on her way to the bedroom to change, somehow managing not trip over them as she headed back out into the living room to collapse on the couch.  
  
She was pulling her hair into a ponytail when she heard a quick knock at the door and the sounds of Weiss letting himself in.  
  
"You order the pizza?" he called.  
  
"Of course," she told him, peering over the back of the couch. "Did you bring the liquor?"  
  
Instead of answering, he crossed to the couch and held a bottle of liquor in front of her face. Her eyes crossed trying to read the label, so she took the bottle and held it at a more readable distance while Weiss headed for the kitchen to retrieve some glasses. The doorbell rang and he waved off her attempt to give him money, returning to the couch a moment later with shot glasses in one hand and a pizza box in the other.  
  
"Ouzo?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. "What happened to tequila?   
  
"I bought it at the duty-free shop." He put the shot glasses side by side on the table, motioning for her to pour, and opened the pizza box, inhaling deeply.  
  
"On purpose?" She sounded incredulous, but she unscrewed the cap on the bottle anyway and poured the shots. They both ignored the liquor in favor of inhaling the pizza. Weiss finished his slice first, but Sydney wasn't far behind him.   
  
Weiss wiped his hands on a napkin and lifted his glass up in a toast. "What should we drink to?"  
  
"Being home," she offered, knocking back the drink. She made a horrible face and slammed the glass down, pushing it away. "That stuff will take the enamel off your teeth."  
  
They devoured the pizza, chatting amiably about work. Finally Weiss pushed his plate away and examined the ouzo bottle.  
  
"Okay, we have way too much liquor left."  
  
"Maybe you should keep that in mind next time you're in charge of buying the liquor."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," he said, pouring them each another shot. "Why don't we drink to the mission?"  
  
"Why don't we drink to your tie? It'd be more memorable."  
  
They each took their shots, and then Weiss stared at Sydney, studying her face.  
  
"Were you disappointed in this mission?"  
  
"We got Cummings, and Marshall's analyzing the security system as we speak. Why would that disappoint me?" She tried to sound nonchalant, but she couldn't help the frustration that crept into her words. She knew Weiss would hear it, too.  
  
"Come on, Syd, I know you better than that. We sat around in animal print clothes and chatted. You missed the action, didn't you?"  
  
The grin she gave him was almost sheepish. "Well, I like a challenge."  
  
"Please," Weiss scoffed. "You like kicking the bad guy's ass."  
  
"Okay, I'll give you that, but sometimes it's nice to do things the easy way."  
  
If it was possible, Weiss looked even more skeptical. "And when have you ever done things the easy way?"  
  
"Hey!" she laughed, lobbing her crumpled napkin at his head. He caught it and threw it right back at her. The napkin missed her head completely and landed on the back of the couch. "Nice aim."  
  
"I think the alcohol might be affecting my pitching arm."  
  
"Weiss, you don't have a pitching arm."  
  
"Look, Bristow, your jealousy's really getting out of hand."  
  
"I'm jealous of the way you *can't* throw?"  
  
"Yes," he nodded, his expression so serious that she couldn't help but laugh. "And you're jealous of my ass-kicking skills. That's why you took things easy with Toni Cummings: you were afraid I'd outshine you."  
  
"Weiss, the only reason you would have outshone me was because you had a giant diamond in your ear."  
  
"Ouch." Weiss collapsed back into the couch cushions as if she'd physically wounded him. "That was harsh, Syd. It's bad enough I was your second choice for the mission, but now you're doubting my spy prowess."  
  
"You weren't my second choice," she said before she could think. She wasn't sure why she felt like she needed to justify herself. After all, he *had* been her second choice, but for some reason she didn't want him to feel like he was.  
  
"Vaughn told me about North Korea, Syd." When she didn't answer, trying to imagine what Vaughn must have said, Weiss continued. "I know things between you guys have been tense lately, and that everything must be even worse now. If you want me to take his place on missions for a while, that's okay."  
  
She gave Weiss a small, grateful smile. "Thanks. It was easier, even with that damn earring. It was easier to pretend to be your wife."  
  
His gaze was unexpectedly intense, but when he spoke his voice was suspiciously casual. "I told you, it's the tie. What could be difficult about pretending to be in love with a guy with a zebra print tie?"  
  
And just like that, everything clicked into place. Those sidelong glances he'd given her in the Ops Center—they weren't just because Weiss was worried about her. He wasn't simply checking to see if she was upset about arguing with Lauren in the morning briefing. He wasn't constantly dropping by just to make sure she had a shoulder to cry on.  
  
He was in love with her and she wondered what kind of spy she was that she hadn't noticed before.   
  
Weiss was still talking about how she couldn't help but want a partner with a pitching arm like his when he reached past her on the couch for the napkin ball. Sydney didn't stop to think, didn't wonder if it would be a bad idea. As Weiss leaned over her shoulder she tilted his chin up to hers and kissed him.  
  
It was better than she thought it would be--not that she'd had more than a split second to develop any expectations. There was an intensity that surprised her and it was nothing like a kiss you'd expect from a trusty sidekick. But before she could even process these thoughts, Weiss was pulling away and scooting back to the other end of the couch.  
  
"Woah."  
  
"Weiss--"  
  
"Look, Syd, I'm gonna go." He looked a little dazed, like instead of kissing him she'd hit him over the head.  
  
"But--"  
  
"Forget about it," he said, waving off her protests.  
  
"I can explain."  
  
He arched an eyebrow at that. "Can you?"  
  
Sydney sat back and considered his point. As much as she didn't want this to change the easy camaraderie between them, she wasn't too sure she *could* explain. In some ways she was just as confused as Weiss.  
  
Maybe she was more confused than Weiss, because he was looking at her like he knew every thought that was racing through her head. She thought about it for a minute and decided that he probably did.   
  
"So what now?" she asked.  
  
"Well, I'm gonna head home and get some sleep and you're going to pour this liquor down the drain because, man," he laughed ruefully, "it sucks." He started cleaning up their shot glasses and pizza crusts, looking for all the world like it was any normal night and she hadn't just made a fool out of herself.  
  
"No," she laughed, "I meant for us."  
  
He sighed, taking both of her hands in his. She looked down, focusing on his hands so she didn't have to look him in the eye. She smiled as she noticed how neat his cuticles were. She wondered if he'd gotten a manicure for the mission, but she figured that if she asked, especially right now, he'd kill her.  
  
"Look," he told her gently, "I don't even have a shot at being the rebound guy here."  
  
"That's not--I mean, I'm not." She let out a frustrated breath, irritated that she had no idea what to say in this situation.  
  
"I know, Syd. You want to think you're over Vaughn, but you're not. You can't even go on missions with him." She forced herself to lift her head look Weiss in the eye, noting that he, at least, seemed relaxed–and more than a little amused. "So, you take your time and it'll happen eventually and we'll just keep getting drunk and having dinner together like we always do."  
  
"So nothing's changed?"  
  
"For now, no." He paused, and got a mischievous glint in his eye. "But maybe we can have this conversation again in a couple months."  
  
"I'm really am sorry, Weiss. I don't know what came over me."  
  
"I do," he grinned. "I told you it was the tie."  
  
END.  
  
Feedback merrily received at emily@healthyinterest.net 


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